bones.”
“Thanks, Mom! I didn’t think you’d find it this fast.”
“They are fairly old, so I think you’ll be able to grind them up.”
Dad and I had bought a grinding press a few years back to powder some wood. I ran and grabbed it from the cabinet in the library.
“And to think,” Mom said, “that I doubted you would ever use that thing again.”
“I’m going to go out to the garage and smash a piece of this bone off with a hammer,” I told her. “Then I’ll have a manageable piece for the grinder.”
“Don’t smash your finger,” Mom called after me.
After hammering and grinding the bone by turning the crank on the grinder about a billion times, I got nowhere by adding the bone to the chalk. Not only did my biceps hurt, but I had a strong feeling that I was headed down the wrong path. I tried four different times and then gave up. I didn’t think I’d be able to use my right arm tomorrow.
“Does Finn like blondes?” Anya asked on Tuesday in class.
The whole question was so ridiculous that it took me a moment to process it. “Why on earth would that matter?”
She flipped her hair as she said, “I’m thinking about going blond.”
Anya had the most beautiful dark hair. Shiny, straight, and easy to style. “Are you kidding me?”
“You don’t think I’d look good?”
I thought she’d look like an idiot. “I think you’re nuts.”
She pulled back at my words. “That isn’t very nice.”
“I think you have great hair.”
“Brice likes blondes.”
Oh. This was about Brice. “Why do you care about Finn if you’re doing it for Brice?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to do it for a guy if it will limit my options.”
As if she had a chance with Finn anyway. Even if he were a college student, he wouldn’t be interested in a high school sophomore.
A freshly blond Anya appeared at my locker on Thursday morning wearing a pink dress and heels.
“What do you think?” she asked as she twirled in front of me.
I wasn’t sure what I thought. “Give me a minute.” Okay, taking it all in, I was thinking that she was trying too hard. The hair though… Her hair wasn’t bad. Her skin tone worked with the blond, and the three different shades of blond in her hair told me that the new do had cost a fortune. “You look good,” I admitted.
Anya squealed, clapping her hands together. Then she spun around and ran across the hall to Camille. She was totally channeling Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde .
I hadn’t wanted it to be flattering. Maybe I was mean, but she was pretty with her own hair color.
After school, I rushed to the front porch, eager to tell my mother about Anya’s hair.
“Mom!” I called as I pushed open the front door. “You won’t—”
My mother sat on the couch with Dave. She had her iPad and he had a laptop.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know you guys were working.”
“We had a few things to wrap up,” she said. “Give me thirty minutes.”
“Yeah. Sure.” I left my backpack by the front door. “Hi, Dave.”
Dave tore his eyes away from my mother long enough to smile at me. “Hey, Zoe. Long time no see.”
I guess it had been a while. I tried not to stare at him as I walked by, but I wished I had an excuse to watch them interact for a while. Maybe I had overreacted. Could Dave and Mom actually work?
Dad picked me up after school on Friday. “Thanks for hanging out tonight, Zoe. I know you would rather be working on your substitution experiments tonight. With all that company coming for Thanksgiving, you won’t have much time for it.”
“It’s fine, Dad. I haven’t been able to get the chalk to work anyway. I need to focus and think, but I have too much going on.”
“Well, let’s talk through it now,” he said as we left the parking lot. “You want to use sidewalk chalk as the base?”
“Yes. I want it to be harder though. But the chalk idea just seems right. I can almost see the chalk
“Thanks, Mom! I didn’t think you’d find it this fast.”
“They are fairly old, so I think you’ll be able to grind them up.”
Dad and I had bought a grinding press a few years back to powder some wood. I ran and grabbed it from the cabinet in the library.
“And to think,” Mom said, “that I doubted you would ever use that thing again.”
“I’m going to go out to the garage and smash a piece of this bone off with a hammer,” I told her. “Then I’ll have a manageable piece for the grinder.”
“Don’t smash your finger,” Mom called after me.
After hammering and grinding the bone by turning the crank on the grinder about a billion times, I got nowhere by adding the bone to the chalk. Not only did my biceps hurt, but I had a strong feeling that I was headed down the wrong path. I tried four different times and then gave up. I didn’t think I’d be able to use my right arm tomorrow.
“Does Finn like blondes?” Anya asked on Tuesday in class.
The whole question was so ridiculous that it took me a moment to process it. “Why on earth would that matter?”
She flipped her hair as she said, “I’m thinking about going blond.”
Anya had the most beautiful dark hair. Shiny, straight, and easy to style. “Are you kidding me?”
“You don’t think I’d look good?”
I thought she’d look like an idiot. “I think you’re nuts.”
She pulled back at my words. “That isn’t very nice.”
“I think you have great hair.”
“Brice likes blondes.”
Oh. This was about Brice. “Why do you care about Finn if you’re doing it for Brice?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to do it for a guy if it will limit my options.”
As if she had a chance with Finn anyway. Even if he were a college student, he wouldn’t be interested in a high school sophomore.
A freshly blond Anya appeared at my locker on Thursday morning wearing a pink dress and heels.
“What do you think?” she asked as she twirled in front of me.
I wasn’t sure what I thought. “Give me a minute.” Okay, taking it all in, I was thinking that she was trying too hard. The hair though… Her hair wasn’t bad. Her skin tone worked with the blond, and the three different shades of blond in her hair told me that the new do had cost a fortune. “You look good,” I admitted.
Anya squealed, clapping her hands together. Then she spun around and ran across the hall to Camille. She was totally channeling Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde .
I hadn’t wanted it to be flattering. Maybe I was mean, but she was pretty with her own hair color.
After school, I rushed to the front porch, eager to tell my mother about Anya’s hair.
“Mom!” I called as I pushed open the front door. “You won’t—”
My mother sat on the couch with Dave. She had her iPad and he had a laptop.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know you guys were working.”
“We had a few things to wrap up,” she said. “Give me thirty minutes.”
“Yeah. Sure.” I left my backpack by the front door. “Hi, Dave.”
Dave tore his eyes away from my mother long enough to smile at me. “Hey, Zoe. Long time no see.”
I guess it had been a while. I tried not to stare at him as I walked by, but I wished I had an excuse to watch them interact for a while. Maybe I had overreacted. Could Dave and Mom actually work?
Dad picked me up after school on Friday. “Thanks for hanging out tonight, Zoe. I know you would rather be working on your substitution experiments tonight. With all that company coming for Thanksgiving, you won’t have much time for it.”
“It’s fine, Dad. I haven’t been able to get the chalk to work anyway. I need to focus and think, but I have too much going on.”
“Well, let’s talk through it now,” he said as we left the parking lot. “You want to use sidewalk chalk as the base?”
“Yes. I want it to be harder though. But the chalk idea just seems right. I can almost see the chalk
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